


The Mist Leaves No Scar

by ruric



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Community: comment_fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-12
Updated: 2009-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruric/pseuds/ruric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s still dark outside when the alarm sounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mist Leaves No Scar

It’s still dark outside when the alarm sounds.

Daniel turns to look at Jack, knows that Jack’s red rimmed gaze is mirrored in his own eyes. Jack’s pale, skin drawn tight over his cheekbones and he looks as if he’s aged a decade overnight. Daniel himself feels like he’s been sucked dry – like he’s been fed on by the Wraith – brittle, fragile and empty.

“Come on.”

Daniel nods and they climb from the ruin of their bed, the creased sheets and comforter which had slid off to one side during the night, a testament to their sleeplessness. They shower, shave and dress, silence their refuge when there’s nothing left to say. No words in any of the dozens of languages that Daniel knows can fill this gap.

Jack in dress blues looks every inch his military rank, row after row of medals pinned to his chest. Still, even on a day like today, it makes Daniel’s breath catch in his throat and offer prayers to deities he doesn’t believe in, because so many of those medals are recognitions of situations which no-one should have walked away from alive. But Jack did and Jack is here.

Daniel’s dark blue suit, fresh from the cleaners, pressed and unrumpled, almost matches.

The drive is a short one and Jack takes the wheel while Daniel, he remembers.

They did the full memorial service in the Gateroom yesterday – in front of the rank and file, SG command and TV cameras. The assorted visiting dignitaries - from organizations and offices who don’t care much what happens to the people who venture through the gate every day - were happy to be on hand, for once in the right place, at the right time with a soundbite to offer to camera. Everyone was on their best behaviour, the right speeches were made and farewells said.

But that wasn’t how they really wanted it to end – they wanted colleagues and friends who were as close as family to be able to make their peace off camera and in private.

They’d wanted something different - which is why they’re in the cemetery just as dawn is breaking. The dew is still wet on the grass, the mist slowly rising as the sun creeps higher into the sky welcoming a new day.

This time there are no pre-reheased speeches for public consumption. This time there’s only co-workers and friends, each saying a sentence or two, voices breaking, tears slipping down their cheeks as they say goodbye. The silence of the crowd around the grave is absolute, broken only by the occasional stifled sob.

And if SG1 are standing closer together than they normally do? If Teal’c arm is around Sam’s shoulders, if Jack’s arm circles Sam’s waist, if Daniel is clutching Jack’s hand with both of his own, his head resting on Jack’s shoulder as his vision blurs?

There’s no-one here who will take any notice – because everyone has come to say goodbye to Janet Frasier.


End file.
